C3 Sparks and suspicion

Lucas froze at the sound of her voice outside his door.

The Luna.

The woman he was supposed to betray.

The woman his soul already ached for.

His wolf surged forward in his chest, restless, desperate to answer her, to close the distance. Lucas clenched his jaw, forcing the animal back down. Not now. Not here. Not when Zoe’s life depends on this lie.

He opened the door slowly. Vashti stood in the corridor, torchlight casting golden halos in her midnight hair. Her eyes searched his face with quiet intensity, sharp enough to flay him open.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Her voice was soft, but it carried the weight of command. “Why do you feel familiar to me?”

Lucas dropped his gaze, schooling his features into humility. “I wouldn’t know, Luna. Perhaps you mistake me for another.”

Her lips curved slightly — not into a smile, but something between amusement and challenge. “Perhaps.” She stepped closer, close enough that her scent enveloped him: wild roses and steel, like the edge of a blade kissed by summer rain. It struck him in the gut, raw and intoxicating.

His throat tightened. His wolf howled inside, clawing to get closer.

“You’ll start training with the guards tomorrow,” Vashti said, her voice a low hum that sent shivers down his spine. “I want to see if a so-called rogue can keep up with my warriors.”

Lucas inclined his head. “Yes, Luna.”

She studied him a moment longer, her gaze lingering as though trying to peel back his layers. Then she turned, her cloak whispering against the stone floor. Before leaving, she glanced back over her shoulder. “Don’t disappoint me, Kade.”

---

The next morning, Lucas stood in the sparring ring, stripped to his undershirt, sweat glistening across his chest as he faced a seasoned Paxton warrior. Each blow he parried, each strike he landed, drew more suspicious glances from those watching. A rogue shouldn’t have moved with such precision.

From the balcony above, Vashti watched. Her eyes burned on him with a fire that made his skin prickle.

Lucas forced himself to fight sloppier, to stumble, to appear weaker than he was. But when his opponent came close to landing a dangerous hit, instinct took over. His movements turned fluid, lethal. He disarmed the warrior in a blink, pinning him to the dirt.

Gasps rippled through the ring.

Lucas’s chest heaved. He cursed himself silently. Too much. You revealed too much.

From above, Vashti’s lips parted slightly, her eyes narrowing in recognition of something she couldn’t yet name.

---

That night, as Lucas lay restless in his bed, dreams assaulted him.

Dreams of Vashti.

Her fingers grazing his cheek. Her lips brushing his neck. Her body pressed against his, heat and hunger burning through him. The dream was so vivid it jolted him awake, his breath ragged, his body trembling with need and shame.

A sound broke the silence.

The soft creak of his door opening.

Lucas whipped his head around, heart hammering — and saw her silhouette in the doorway.

Vashti.

Moonlight spilled over her, turning her hair silver, her eyes shadowed but piercing.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said quietly, stepping inside. Her gaze locked on him, unflinching. “And for some reason… I keep thinking of you.”

Lucas’s pulse thundered. His wolf surged, desperate to claim her. But Zoe’s terrified face flashed in his mind — the reminder of chains, of the Alpha’s threat. He was trapped between desire and duty, and either choice could destroy him.

**********************

Lucas hadn’t slept. Not after Vashti had slipped into his chamber and left him raw with questions, with heat, with the dangerous ache of what could never be. He’d sent her away with a forced smile and a polite bow of the head, but inside… he was shaking apart.

By dawn, the walls of the Paxton packhouse felt like they were pressing in on him. Every breath he took was laced with her scent, every corner seemed haunted by her presence. His wolf prowled beneath his skin, restless, snarling at his restraint.

And then he found the message.

It was tucked under the edge of his door — a strip of parchment, folded once. His heart dropped into his stomach even before he opened it.

Progress?

The single word was written in the Alpha’s sharp hand, ink pressed deep into the fibers like claws raking through flesh. Lucas’s grip tightened until the paper tore. He could almost smell Zoe’s fear threaded through it, hear her small voice begging for him.

He shoved the note into the fire before anyone could see, but the flames didn’t erase the dread curling in his gut.

---

Later, Vashti summoned him to her private chambers.

He hesitated outside her door, chest tight, palms damp. He should have felt dread. He should have been planning his lies. Instead, he felt something else entirely — the dangerous pull of longing.

The door opened before he knocked. She stood there without armor, dressed in a simple gown of midnight silk. The sight of her stole his breath.

“Come,” she said. Her voice was softer than usual, almost tired.

Inside, the chamber glowed with the warmth of a low fire. Papers littered the desk, maps marked with ink and symbols. Yet it was the Luna herself who looked weighed down, shadows beneath her eyes betraying the burden she carried.

“You’ve noticed, haven’t you?” she asked quietly, staring into the fire.

Lucas blinked. “Noticed what?”

Her hands tightened on the back of the chair. “How they look at me. My own council. My warriors. Half of them still believe I shouldn’t be standing where I am. That a woman leading a pack is… unnatural.”

Lucas’s throat tightened. She spoke the very words the Gravelmoon Alpha had spat with such venom. But from her lips, they were filled with hurt, not hate.

“I fight every day,” she continued, voice low, “not just for this pack’s survival, but for their respect. And sometimes… I wonder if I’ll ever truly have it.”

The vulnerability in her tone shattered something inside him. Against his will, Lucas stepped closer. “They don’t deserve you,” he said, his voice rough, honest. “You’re stronger than all of them combined. They’re blind if they can’t see it.”

Her gaze lifted to his, sharp and searching. For a heartbeat, the world stilled between them.

Something flickered in her eyes — recognition, longing, maybe both.

But before he could say another word, a sound drifted through the open window. A sound that made his blood run cold.

A scent on the wind.

Zoe’s scent.

Lucas staggered back, his heart slamming against his ribs. It was faint, but unmistakable. She was here. Somewhere near Paxton territory.

“Are you alright?” Vashti asked, frowning at his sudden change.

He forced himself to breathe, to mask the panic clawing at him. “Yes. Just… tired.”

But inside, his world was breaking.

If Zoe was this close, it meant the Alpha’s claws reached further than he thought. She wasn’t safe at all — she was bait dangling right in front of him.

That night, as Lucas lay awake listening to the howl of the wind outside, another parchment slid under his door. This one read only four words, but they were enough to tear him apart:

“I miss you, Papa.”